


Until They Forget They Are Horses

by WhereDoYouWantMe



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 19:40:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18453293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhereDoYouWantMe/pseuds/WhereDoYouWantMe
Summary: Merlin couldn’t remember anything before last summer. He had been found, bleeding from the head in a field just outside of Ealdor whilst the men were out tending to the crops. He was dragged home; he supposed that was what it was and was told so by the other men, to a woman called Hunith who cried that she thought she had lost him. That, he learnt later, was his mother.





	Until They Forget They Are Horses

**Author's Note:**

> So another little fic for you all because it has been an age since I last posted. If anyone has any ideas of what I could write next, please let me know! 
> 
> Title from the poem Scheherazade by Richard Siken

Merlin couldn’t remember anything before last summer. He had been found, bleeding from the head in a field just outside of Ealdor whilst the men were out tending to the crops. He was dragged home, (he supposed that was what it was and was told so by the other men) to a woman called Hunith who cried that she thought she had lost him. That, he learnt later, was his mother. 

Will was his best friend and had been since Merlin was a child; they had grown up in the village together. Will was, on the whole, kind and patient though he soon became tired of introducing Merlin to everyone in the village again. “It’s like you’ve never even been here.” Will said, rolling his eyes when a neighbour’s name slipped from Merlin's mind. 

It felt odd; he had absolutely no recollection of those people yet somewhere, very deep in the back of his mind, Merlin remembered a man with blond hair and a kind smile. He remembered the softest touch and the feel of metal underneath his fingers. When he was alone, though he told no one, he remembered the feeling of another’s hands on his body and briefly wondered whether he had someone he loved very dearly that died. Merlin never told anyone of his dreams because that is all they were; dreams, nothing more. 

Merlin helped with the harvest the best that he could even though he was still weak from his wound. Some days found him helping the other women in the village with the washing and scrubbing his clothes in scalding hot water became his favourite pastime very quickly. Not because it was particularly enjoyable, but because Merlin remembered doing it constantly, though he had no idea where. It wasn’t in his little village, it wasn’t even anywhere near Ealdor. But it was like another one of his dreams and Merlin wasn’t sure whether he could entirely trust them. 

Summer slowly crept by until the days became shorter and the wind became colder. Merlin still helped where he could, though their harvest was not fruitful and not everyone would survive the winter. He used the strange memories to his advantage, healing the sick children and the wounded with herbs and plants that he found in the forests around the village, rubbing honey on red wounds so that the farmers may keep their limbs. Sometimes he lost someone, someone very sick and he refused to come out of his little hut for days, only accepting the food and water pushed through the door by his mother or Will. 

\-------

He didn’t find out about his magic until late winter. It was biting cold and he had lost a little girl of three to a wasting sickness the day before; there was no way to have saved her but Merlin still felt responsible. He was sat in front of the fire, pleading with his stiff limbs to warm when something sparked in the hearth and the logs caught on fire. Merlin threw himself back, nearly falling off of his bed in the process. His fingers tingled ever so slightly as he stared at the fire and just as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone, leaving nothing but the faint smell of smoke in its wake. Merlin looked to the candle stub on the small table in the corner of his hut and it copied the hearth, bursting into flame before his own eyes. 

He shook though not from the cold and stared at his hands in hatred. Magic was not banned in Ealdor but Sorcerers were looked down upon and hated for their part to play in the destruction during the purge. Many still believed in the old ways, though he had heard tales from his mother that Camelot had changed its laws because the King had fallen in love with a sorcerer. _How could anyone fall in love with something like me? _He thought and did not sleep.__

____

____

\----

“What do you think of magic?” Merlin asked Will the next morning. His friend was chopping wood in front of him and Merlin was watching from a large log. 

Will turned with one eyebrow raised, axe hanging still in the air. “You know what I think of magic, Merlin. It’s dangerous.” He said but Merlin didn’t believe him. There was something in his eyes, stubbornness that reminded Merlin of someone else, though he didn’t know who. 

“I don’t believe you.” He said and rubbed some warmth back into his chilled fingers. 

Will laughed though he didn’t seem to find it very funny. “Well as always, Merlin, you’re simple.” But when he turned and saw Merlin’s frown he seemed to sober and slammed the axe into the log, sitting down beside it. “I don’t think it’s evil. It’s the person that wields it that can cause harm, right? Like how a blade isn’t dangerous, the person who is holding it is.” He said quietly. Merlin could feel the tears building behind his eyes and even though Will rolled his eyes at him he saw him wince. “Have you remembered?” He whispered and Merlin didn’t know what else do to but nod. 

“ _Gods _, Will, I’m a freak.” He said and buried his head into his hands as he let out a loud sob. Somewhere in the background he heard Will sigh and then two arms encircled his shoulders.__

____

____

“You aren’t a freak, Merlin. You’re different, that’s all. No point in worrying about what you can’t change.” Will said. He seemed so open with the knowledge; he was completely comfortable with knowing what Merlin was. Something in Merlin almost pushed him into asking Will about his dreams but he stopped just before he could. He wasn’t sure Will would entirely understand and he didn’t want to give him another reason not to trust him.

Besides, as long as he told no one about the dreams, he could still see the blond man. The one he couldn’t remember but knew that he loved with all of his heart. 

\----

That night he dreamt of a young girl with black hair who kissed him. She tasted of strawberries. He carried the young girl through a forest to a lake and sat with her whilst she died. He remembered the grief and it hit him full force, the pain of his loss ripping through him as he collapsed at the shore of the lake. _Take care, Emrys _. A voice like nothing else carried across the water, pushing ripples away like breath. _You will find him soon enough _.____

__

__

____

____

Merlin woke up with a shout, sweating and was glad that his mother wasn’t awake to see him crying. 

\-----

He had been in Ealdor for just under a year when reports arrived announcing the King’s arrival. The people bustled around, fixing walls and planting flowers in readiness that Merlin didn’t understand. 

“Why is everyone so excited for the arrival of the King? And why is he coming this far East anyway?” He asked his mother that night over his bowl of broth. She winced and rubbed her hands across her apron. 

“The king lost someone very dear to him; his consort. He was taken by an evil sorcerer some time ago and the king has been searching for him since.” His mother said quietly and spooned more broth into Merlin’s bowl. 

He raised an eyebrow as he ate. “His consort? The king’s consort was a man?” He asked and his mother nodded. 

“And a powerful sorcerer. He was stolen for his magic no doubt. Some say that he is the most powerful sorcerer this world has ever seen and will ever see.” His mother gritted her teeth and looked almost to be in pain as she forced the words out. “There is a prophecy on his head, that he will unite all of Albion.”

Merlin chewed for a bit because his mother was clearly very upset and he didn’t want to hurt her any further. "Who is Emrys?” He asked. Suddenly, his mother rounded on him, eyes wide with fear as she brandished the spoon that she had been holding. 

“How did you hear that name?” She asked, voice shaking. 

Merlin shrugged. “I heard it in a dream. Someone called me Emrys, I think.” He bit his lip as his mother’s face crumpled. “Is it something bad? Am I bad?” He asked quietly. 

His mother wiped her face and only then he realised that she was crying. “Don’t mention that name again, Merlin. Not to me, not to anyone. And certainly not to the king when he comes.” She dropped the spoon on the table and slipped through the curtain at the far end of the hut, letting it fall pointedly behind her. Merlin buried his head in his hands and tried to stop the world from spinning. 

\---

He opened his eyes to a thick fog that slipped through his nose and down his throat, almost choking him. It didn’t clear so he walked forward, inching along what felt like dirt until his boots hit stone and only then did the fog begin to clear from in front of him, revealing white turrets and a gatehouse. He didn’t know where he was but the memory hit somewhere in the back of his head until it throbbed with the realisation that Merlin knew this place, even if he didn’t remember it. 

The streets were devoid of people and there were no guards stationed at the gatehouse leaving the crisp click of Merlin’s boots against flagstones the only sound in the courtyard. It was eerie to see a kingdom so lifeless though he supposed that his brain couldn’t manage to create all of those people. Without even thinking he walked through the small door beside the stairway and up to a small set of chambers. He could smell each medicine inside, bruise ointments that were kept for the knights after their training sessions and the tinctures created for the nobles at court. When he opened the doors, it was empty and the bed had been cleared though Merlin could have sworn there should be someone there. Someone very close to him. Nothing but the medicines remained, lost and forgotten under layers and layers of dust. The bedroom at the back was much the same and the sight of it brought Merlin to his knees. He remembered the too hard bed and the flies that always swept through the window on hot summer nights, keeping him up with their loud buzzing. 

It took him a very long time for him to garner the strength to stand up again and when he finally did his head hurt more and more than it had before. Merlin, someone called. _Merlin please _. They were in pain; Merlin could hear it in their voice, in the tightness of their words. He raced from the room, down the stone steps and through the castle, the voice seeming further and further away with every step that he took.__

____

____

“I’m coming!” He called though his voice was little more than a whisper. “I promise I’m coming.” The person screamed and Merlin raced forward again, pushing harder and harder until finally he came to rest in front of two heavy wooden doors. His heart pounded in his chest and when he reached out to open the doors, the voice stopped abruptly, leaving Merlin to wonder whether they were dead. He almost lost it at that thought, pushing on the door only to have it not budge, stuck where it was by some great force on the other side. He let out a howl and pounded on it with his fists, over and over until finally he stepped back and with a flash of his eyes the doors swung open. 

At first glance, the rooms were empty, devoid of any one or any creature that could have made such a sound. But then Merlin looked, really looked, and noticed a man on the floor. His man, his blond man was lying on his back in a pool of his own blood. Merlin’s heart dropped and he dropped to his knees, half dragging himself towards the man. 

_Arthur _, he thought. His name is Arthur.__

____

____

He reached out and pulled Arthur’s head into his lap, sobbing at the deadened weight of it. “Arthur, please. I’m sorry, please don’t die. I’m sorry. I remember, please come back to me.” He laid his forehead on his and tangled his hands in the leather of Arthur’s jacket. 

“Emrys,” The voice from his dream whispered and Merlin’s head snapped up. There was a man in front of him with golden eyes and bronze skin, dressed in peasant garbs though there was no mistaking the power he possessed. It crackled off of him like embers from a flame, great golden bands of magic twirling around his fingers and his neck so that he glowed. He was born of magic, there was no mistaking that, and controlled it less than it controlled him. “Do you remember young warlock?” The man asked and the name punched the air out of him. 

“Kilgarrah?” He asked, his voice the same cracked whisper as before. 

The great dragon bowed his head in greeting and folded his hands behind his back. “Yes, Emrys.”

Merlin looked around him. “What is this place?” He asked. 

Kilgarrah looked around with a sour look as though he disapproved of the surroundings. “We are in limbo, young warlock. Trapped between the world of the living and the dead.” He let out a long sigh that Merlin though sounded more tired than it should. “I would not have brought you here if it was not the only choice; this place is far too dangerous for you and the king.”

Merlin choked on his tears. “Is he really dead?” He couldn’t imagine Arthur being dead. Even the thought of it ripped something painful inside of him and he winced, pushing back the wave of pain that rushed to drown him. 

“No. He is not. But we do not have much time to stay here and I am not powerful enough to hold the veil on my own.” He grimaced as though it was taking a great deal of energy to complete and Merlin didn’t doubt that it did. “I am surprised that you remember me at all.” He said and Merlin raised an eyebrow, still clutching onto Arthur’s limp body. 

“I don’t understand.” He said, muffled through tears. 

Kilgarrah nodded as though he expected nothing less. “The curse placed on you was a strong one, stronger than me at least. I had wanted to help you…” His face sort of dropped and Merlin reflected on how odd it was to see him as a human. “I watched over you but there was nothing that I could do.” 

Merlin sniffed and rubbed his nose on his sleeve. “You spoke to me in my dreams.” It wasn’t a question.

Kilgarrah nodded again. “It was the only way that I could speak to you. It was the only way to make you understand.” He said quietly. 

Merlin chewed on his lip. “I am the King’s Consort, aren’t I?” He asked and Kilgarrah nodded again.

“You are and have been for the past three years. The King has been searching for you ever since you went missing.” Kilgarrah said though it didn’t make sense. 

“My mother and Will,” Merlin started and watched Kilgarrah flinch. He wasn’t going to like the answer. “They never told me. They didn’t want me to find out who I really was.” He said and Kilgarrah settled on one of the chairs at Arthur’s table. 

“They had wanted you back for years Merlin and one day you were returned with no recollection of your past with Arthur. For the two of them, it was just as simple as getting you back.” He murmured. 

Merlin gritted his teeth and tried not to cry. “They lied to me over and over again. I was confused and scared and they lied to me.” He clutched tightly onto Arthur, whose head lolled in his lap. “They knew that I was happy with him. They kept me there for a year.” He hissed. What they had done was unforgivable. They had kept him from his king, his husband, the man that he had sworn to stand by and protect for the rest of his living days because they were selfish enough to want him back. He let out a broken howl and pressed his forehead into Arthur’s chest. “Why are you showing me this?” He asked in a low, broken voice.

“You needed to remember, young warlock. You needed to see who you truly were so that you could return to the King and fulfil your destiny.” Kilgarrah said, his deep voice melting into Merlin’s mind. 

He turned to him and smiled ever so slightly. “So, not all Pendragons are evil, then.” He said teasingly and laughed at the way that Kilgarrah rolled his eyes. 

“No, Merlin, not all Pendragons are evil.” His head swept to the side and he narrowed his eyes at the door. “You need to wake up, young warlock, or you never will. Leave this place and find Arthur. Unite Albion and fulfil your destiny.” He drew up to an impossible size and squatted, staring at the door with his hands outstretched. “I will buy you as much time as I am able.” 

Merlin gripped impossibly tighter to Arthur but couldn’t help calling out to the dragon. “What will happen to you?” 

Kilgarrah turned and smiled at him. “What happens to all old things, Merlin. It is my time.” He turned to the door which was being pounded on by some force and Merlin watched the gold crackle around his palms again. 

Merlin turned down to Arthur and found that he had no idea how to wake up. He knew of no spell, no incantation that would raise him, and he wasn’t even sure if he possessed the power to do so. “Come on, Arthur. Help me please. Just give me an idea…” He was cut off by Arthur smacking his lips ever so gently, a tell-tale sign that he was alive after all. He laughed and caressed Arthur’s cheekbones with his thumbs. “Of course, Sire. Whatever you say.” There was a loud crash and Merlin dipped down just as Kilgarrah let out a mighty roar and when he kissed Arthur the world exploded into the colour of magic. 

\---

He woke with a start to see that it was already morning. Arthur was arriving today, his love and his husband were arriving and he would finally be able to touch him. He was broken from his thoughts by his mother pushing through the curtain with a bowl of porridge in her hands. He carefully schooled his face as he saw her and pushed down the hatred to give her a false smile. She seemed to believe it and ruffled his hair before leaving through the front door. Merlin dressed quickly and was out of the door in record time, not even bothering to finish the porridge that his mother had made him. He was practically vibrating with nerves and excitement and since stepping outside had already bumped into two people and made them drop whatever it was they were carrying. 

He didn’t have to wait long to see him. It started with the heavy drum of hooves in the distance and soon turned into the sight of ten horses galloping through the edge of the forest. Merlin saw him immediately, all heroic and beautiful on top of Llamrei and just like he remembered him; like the King he always knew him to be. 

The village fell silent as they approached and Merlin slunk off to the side next to Will, who did not seem at all pleased with the arrival of the King. He kept sending Merlin worried looks as though he believed him to have remembered and it made Merlin want to punch him in the face. For keeping the secret and for not allowing him to be with his King at all. 

Arthur reached the edge of the village and dismounted at once, his knights doing the same. Merlin could see all of the familiar faces; Gwaine, Leon and Percival were stood proudly behind Arthur who regarded the villagers with a smile. “Hunith!” He cried and approached his mother who smiled back and embraced him gently. If only Arthur knew what she had done, Merlin thought. He would not nearly be so charitable. Arthur stepped back and grabbed Llamrei’s reins. “We thank you for your kind hospitality and hope that we will not be a burden…” His voice trailed off and Merlin’s brows furrowed. Only when he looked at him did he realise that Arthur’s eyes were pinned to him, wide and shocked. The knights followed his lead and one by one each turned, their own eyes widening with recognition. 

Gwaine was the first to speak, as always, and threw his reins over his horse before leaping over to Merlin and pulling him into a bear hug. “Merlin! By the Gods, it’s good to see you!” He smacked a theatrical kiss onto Merlin’s cheek then swung one arm around his neck. “Princess has been absolutely insufferable ever since you left. You know how he gets.” Gwaine muttered and Merlin let out a little chuckle. Because he did know now. He knew everything. The other Knights greeted him in much the same way and Merlin couldn’t help feeling warm knowing that they had all missed him dearly. 

Arthur hadn’t moved but his face had turned cold and murderous. He handed his reins to a Knight that Merlin didn’t recognise and stalked towards him. Merlin cowered away, almost jumping back because he knew Arthur and he was either going to throw something at him or slap him, maybe both. What he was no expecting was for Arthur to grab his arm and tug him away from the village towards the edge of the woods. Perhaps he was going to strangle him out there because no one would ever find his body. It was clever, and if the King truly did want to destroy him, there was nothing that Merlin would do to stop him. He knew that with all of his heart if he needed to, he would die by Arthur’s hand. 

He wasn’t expecting to be pushed up against a tree the moment that they entered the forest, Arthur clinging to his collar and screaming something at him that he didn’t register because it was Arthur screaming, his wonderful, brave and beautiful Arthur. 

“What the hell were you thinking, Merlin?” His voice sounded hoarse and Merlin realised that he was crying. “A year, Merlin. You left me for a year. I thought you were dead!” He screamed, slamming Merlin’s back against it again. He looked mad, out of control and with a sickening lurch Merlin realised that he had done this. He had made Arthur believe that he was dead or tortured rather than living the life of a peasant. “I thought you loved me.” Arthur said quietly and dropped his hands from Merlin’s collar, letting him slip down the tree to collapse on the floor. Merlin wanted to sob. 

“I couldn’t even remember you.” He whispered and hid his face in his hands. “By the Gods, Arthur, I didn’t even know who you were.” He said. Arthur didn’t move but he felt a little bit of the tension slip from him. “There was a sorcerer, they attacked me. Somehow they managed to take my memories and my family played along. The whole village pretended like you didn’t even exist and I believed them because I didn’t think that you did either.” He sobbed loudly because that was all he knew how to do. “Arthur, I would never hurt you. I promised to stand by your side forever and always, why on earth would I stop now?” He dropped his hands from his face and stared up at Arthur with the most honest expression he could. “Please believe me. Please, Arthur, I love you. Please believe me.” 

Arthur let out a shout and hit the tree beside him, punching it twice until he whirled around on Merlin again. He strode towards him, yanked him up by his shoulders and Merlin half expected him to hit him like he had the tree. What he was not expecting was a kiss so hard and heart breaking that it half pushed him off of his feet. When Arthur pushed him against the tree this time he did so with care and made sure that Merlin’s head was cradled in one hand. 

“Never do that to me again, Merlin, please.” Arthur whispered when they pulled apart. “Never make me mourn for you again.”

And Merlin didn’t know how to respond to that so he peppered Arthur’s tear-stained cheeks with kisses and nodded quickly. “Never Arthur, I promise. Never again.” 

He didn’t spare a glance to his mother or Will when he began to pack; he simply shoved his clothes inside as well as some honeyed bread and ignored her as she watched him. To her own credit she didn’t plead with him to stay, she didn’t say anything but the look on her face as he packed was enough to tell him how she was feeling. No doubt she believed that Arthur was pulling her beloved boy away from her again. The thought made him feel ill so he was glad that she said nothing when he left even if he could hear her crying from outside of their small home. 

Will was stood outside glaring at the Knights whose swords were all clutched in their hands. Will was in no way a threat and the Knights knew that but they were sending a message that Will couldn’t ignore. They considered him an enemy for what he did to Merlin and he would not be treated as a friend. 

His old friend grabbed his wrist as he made towards the horses - Arthur had paid handsomely for one of Ealdor’s horses- and gripped it tightly. “It was for your own good. The King isn’t good for you, he doesn’t understand you. He treats you like dirt.” Will hissed and for the first time Merlin realised just how deeply his hatred ran. It scared him a little but he stood tall as he replied. 

“Arthur loves me. He would never hurt me.” He looked down at Will’s hand in disgust before pulling his own sharply away. “Which is more than I can say for you.” And then he turned and left his childhood friend behind. Gwaine greeted him with a slap on the back and Percival sent him a smile that warmed his chest. He didn’t need Ealdor; he had just as much of a home in Camelot. And he had his friends, too, his brave and beautiful friends. 

Arthur emerged from his mother’s hut; Merlin hadn’t noticed him go in, with an anxious look on his face. It slid off as soon as he caught sight of Merlin and he grinned as though he couldn’t believe that he was truly there at all. 

“I can’t even begin to explain how much I have missed you.” Arthur said. 

Merlin smiled and brushed a stray hair from his face. “It’s alright, Arthur. I’m here now and I’m never leaving you again.”

Arthur pulled him into his arms and pressed his lips to Merlin’s forehead, squeezing him so tightly Merlin thought that he might burst. “See that you don’t.” And when Arthur kissed him, it was like the last year melted away like snow in the spring.


End file.
